


Renegades

by knittedwithstars



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst, Feels, Just sex in general, M/M, Road Trips, Sex, Swearing, a sarcastic and cynical author, an "uh-oh speghettio" situation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2018-11-13 18:08:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11190501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knittedwithstars/pseuds/knittedwithstars
Summary: The Sniper and the Spy, the Red and the Blu, the dirty bushman and the fancy wuss... have actually fallen into a happy and fulfilling relationship, despite the hardships of being on the opposite sides of a hellish war. But when they slip up and the secret gets out, they suddenly find themselves as lovers on the run from one of the most insane companies in the world. Road trip!





	1. Sated

“Shut yer gab for a moment. I think ‘e’s comin’ back around.”

Spy paused, only slightly insulted, and pushed off the wall to stand beside the man winking into his scope. He followed the trail of the barrel out the dusky window to the far side of the red-controlled point, where a blue dispenser was peeking behind a concrete wall. Vague tinkering and texan mumbling could be heard over the distance, and Spy closely watched the stillness of Sniper’s poised form, completely unmoving in his tight frown and hovering finger except the nearly imperceptible twitch in his eye. He was starting to think the marksman was mistaken on his chance, when a gaudy yellow glove appeared to fiddle with the dispenser— the sharp inhale that Sniper took was audible, and Spy’s eyes snapped down to the rifle’s trigger, body tensed in waiting for the crack that made his nerves jolt and simmer...

But then the Blu Engineer mosied out of sight again, back to the rest of the nest that was packed behind the wall. Sniper sniffed and waited a strung minute, then lowered his rifle with a mutter and huffed. Spy let his gaze trail off as he took a long drag of his cigarette, silently sharing the disappointment. 

“Ah, buggah… This damn bulb-head’s trying my patience.”  
“I’d still suggest that you ignore him and move up, Monsieur. He is obviously not interested in capturing.”

Sniper scratched at his stubble and sat back against the dusty crates, rifle balanced in his lap.   
“Could hit ‘is dispenser and lure ‘im out, though that might bring the whole calvary… You know, I didn’t take your Engineer for cheap shots. ‘specially since we ain’t been losing bodies anyhow...”

Spy shrugged and tucked his cigarette case back in his pocket before coming behind the sniper and laying a hand on his shoulder, assuming the shot was ruined. Sniper tsked but leaned into his touch, and Spy allowed the Aussie to lounge against his hip. 

“We are desperate, I think, after our losing streak. Capturing the first two points so quickly lifted our spirits, and if our Engineer is not concerned with directly defending second, we must be doing well ourselves… I would suggest you move up.”

Sniper propped his feet up on the window sill as he considered it. He’d been sitting here for the last hour-an’-a-half after Blu caught A and B in a rush, deciding to hold up the last point while his team struggled to win back mid. He was focused on the chokes the whole while, in case of attempted sneaky backcapping, but then this damn Engineer showed up looking for easy kills…

“Can’t just let this buggah sit there with his head still attached, though…”  
“That would be a job for your Spy, non? Or your Soldier or Demoman, _pas pour toi._ Even if you did take him out, his nest remains. He is actually doing _less_ harm sitting back here.”

Sniper frowned in his indecision, fingers tapping along the butt of his rifle, then he sighed and crossed his arms.   
“Guess you’re right, mate…”  
Spy snickered softly and brushed his knuckles over the back of the bushman’s neck.   
“Of course I am. I’m trying to help you, you know.” 

“Don’ need your damn help,” Sniper muttered hostilessly, fingers fidgeting towards his hand. Spy hummed and took the fumbling hand to his lips— he only laughed when the man beneath him stiffened.

“Fine, mon ami. I should return to the field anyway. Shall we meet here, after?”

Spy pulled from the sniper to flip open his cigarette case while Sniper packed his gear, the marksman deciding to listen to the snake’s advice for once. 

“Works for me. Still got an hour, if neither team pulls through.”

Sniper tucked his kukri into his belt and gave a thoughtful look out the window before he approached the waiting devil, mouth twitching into something of a smile. Spy let the smoke trail from his lips then gently closed the gap between them. Sniper was always sheepish with his goodbyes. 

“You got any plans tonight?” Sniper mumbled into his neck and gave a lasting squeeze before stepping back. Spy lingered a hold on his arm but glanced at his watch with a grimace.  
“We’ll figure that out later, Monsieur. We sh—”

Suddenly there was a cacophony of explosions, gunfire, and screaming. Sniper swiveled around to see whirs of blue swarm through the chokes he’d been so carefully guarding. _“Our control point is being captured!”_ Sentry fire, more screams, and cries of triumph. It was over before he could move.

_**“You failed!”** _

 

A leathered hand snapped around his throat that choked his yelp. The strangling grip on his neck kept him from recoiling from the familiar knife that was slipped under his vest.

“Aw, a shame for you, mon cher. I suppose I will see you tonight, then. _Je t'aime.”_

Then he was tossed to the floor as his lungs flooded with blood. With his last gurgling wheeze, he watched Spy wink and shimmer into nothing.   
…………..

Since one of the buses had broke down two months ago, there’d been an agreement that the losers had to find their own way back to base. And seeing that the artillery trucks were long gone by the time they retreated and they were out in BFE with no road but the one they came in on, it looked like it’d be a walk. A sweltering, unhalting, 10 mile walk with all of their equipment in tow. Sniper thought he understood now why Blu had been so desperate to win. 

Although, the Aussie was faring much better than the others. He actually felt alright as he took up the back, content with gazing around the attractive New Mexico landscape and rubbing down his rifle under the shade of his hat. It almost felt like home. The others, meanwhile, were trudging like they were about to keel over and melt, as they rapidly passed water flasks around and tied various clothing around their heads. Medic’s paranoia wasn’t helping, flitting around constantly reminding everyone of the symptoms and effects of heat stroke. 

A thin voice cracked over the glaring sun.   
“Can we take a break? I don’t know if I can make it, man. Does respawn reach out here? What if we get lost or somethin’? We’re almost half outta water…”

The rest of the team seemed to agree with Scout’s suggestion, unceremoniously throwing their weapons on the dusty ground and following them with a flop. Sniper sighed to himself as he was forced to join, settling his stiff joints and cradling his rifle. They’d all get home a lot sooner without these breaks…

Medic ran to fret over Scout, who had collapsed on the ground dramatically.   
“How much further? Maybe ya could leave me here n’ pick me up later? Really Doc, I think I’m dyin’ here…”  
Sniper chuckled to himself as he pulled a small bag of jerky out of his pack.  
 _I’ve drank my own piss to survive before, mate. You’ll make it another seven miles._

“You should have been supporting us in the back rather than defending an empty point, _Monsieur._ ”

Sniper jumped at the voice, and for the barest moment thought his Blu had followed him out here and there was about to be a hell of a riot— then his brain reconnected with that particular tone, and panic stooped to annoyance. He shuffled around to meet the dirty, sweaty “gentleman,” who was glowering at him with his cigarette defeatedly limp in his dry lips. How the hell this buggah could be technically “genetically identical” to his Spy, he’d never get. 

He grunted as he registered Spy’s accusation.   
“Didn’t want anyone sneaking back. Thought the lot of yah could fight for yourselves. Was wrong, apparently.”

Spy’s eyes only narrowed at the defensive venom in Sniper’s tone. He sniffed and pulled at the edges of his damp mask, and Sniper returned his attention to his jerky, hoping the conversation was over.  
 _Why’s this bloke gotta come bother me? Surprised he didn’t order in an express flight back to base, honestly…_ The thought made him smirk. 

“Their Medic was sitting in the back,” Spy continued, and Sniper rolled his eyes. “No one could touch him, then his Ubercharge was what rolled us. It was _your_ job to take him out.”

 _Alright_. Sniper adjusted his glasses up his nose. He wasn’t too fond of anyone criticizing his work, ‘specially a bloke who pranced around with a tiny knife all day. Maybe Red figured he’d be the least likely of the group to sock ‘im under the hot desert sun, but he was wrong. 

_“My_ job? You couldn’t sneak past their lines? No one could take a higher position? And you know, their Engineer was nested all comfy-like at the last point. Didn’t see your mug around doing _your_ job.” 

Sniper’s eye twitched as Spy sneered down at him.   
“You hung back to catch sneakers, yet you let the Engineer set up on the point _you_ were guarding?”

Sniper swallowed down a dry bit of jerky. Y’know, Scout had a good question earlier. Would respawn catch ‘em out here if he knocked Spook’s lights out? Mm, he had enough on his record as it was…

“Couldn’t get a clear shot. ‘N I expected that someone else, like _you,_ would pick ‘im off easier than I could. Again, guess I was wrong.”

Spy muttered something to the equivalent of “pathetic” under his shit-stained nose and, thank god, plucked another cigarette as he stalked off to bother someone else. Sniper shot daggers in his back and quietly wondered how much trouble he’d get in for making Red’s head _disappear._

“Ole’ Snobby givin’ you trouble?”  
Sniper looked up a moment later when he was approached again, but this time he grew a smile instead of a frown.   
“Ah, ‘e’s all bark n’ no bite.”  
“Yeah, well, think we’re all feelin’ snappy after that loss…”

Sniper offered a piece of jerky as Engineer settled beside him, and the Texan took it with a nod to chew with Sniper in thought. 

Engineer would probably be the second best off in this heat after Sniper, having grown up in a related environment. And he was definitely ‘bout the only soul Sniper could tolerate right now, as Spy’s comments still seethed in his skin. 

Engie’s snicker brought his attention back to Scout, who was currently being slung over Heavy’s shoulder and fanned by a frantic Medic. Sniper joined with a wheezy laugh.

“Look at these damn yellow-bellies… You’d think they’d never been under the sun for more than an hour before, not fightin’ wars in New Mexico for over four years…”  
“Yeah, well, looks like ‘bout any man’s turned helpless when you take ‘is air-conditioned bus away…”

Engie chuckled again, but then grew serious.   
“Can’t say much for myself, though. Couldn’t be much help on the offensive, then the damn Sniper took me out right b‘fore the push… Guess it was a small mercy though, I just missed the massacre.” 

Engie thudded his wrench on the dusty ground while Sniper listened with vague interest. Then the rest of the team began reassembling, and Sniper brought the engineer to his feet and gathered his things. Engie continued to walk along with him as the team pushed on, apparently intent on keeping him company, and Sniper decided he was glad for it among all these whinin’ wimps. 

“The bastard backstabber left me alone most of the day, which was a blessing… But I guess that implies he was messin’ with you the whole time.”

 _You don’t know half of it, mate._ Sniper suddenly felt a pang of heaviness in his chest, and he fidgeted over the handle of his Kukri. He and Engineer used to bond over their shared hatred for the “stupid, bloody Spook.” Now the thought made his throat tight…

“Yeah, but he wasn’t much trouble. Jus’ like ours, all bark ‘n no bite. Hardly landed a blow on me, so I guess it was worth keeping him from botherin’ yah.”

He suddenly caught a ghost sensation of _a sharp knife pressed against his spine and a gloved hand at his neck, his pulse racing, something both fear-inducing and confusingly erotic, his body was so unsure of how to react, before—_ He swallowed and hugged his arms across his chest, fingers tapping along to their march. 

Engineer didn’t seem to notice, or he did and he wasn’t keen to ask questions, as he brought Sniper back to focus with his ever light tone.  
“Eh, gotta be honest, I kinda missed crackin’ that priss’ skull. How were things on your end?”

 

Their conversation continued on for a few minutes, before they dropped off in a comfortable silence. Sniper was still quietly laughing at the fainted Scout hung over Heavy’s shoulder and enjoying the scenery, while trying to shrug off those ghost sensations and emotions haunting his skin.

About half-an-hour later, with five and a half miles to go, a truck driver with an empty semitrailer puttered down a nearby road. While he was a bit flabbergasted by the sight of nine color-coordinated men carrying military weapons through the desert, he was obliged to allow them to take up his trailer back to the base, for a good sum of money on their part and lack of inquiry on his. Engineer sat in the truck to give directions, and the rest huddled in the back of the dim container, one door left open to let in light and blissfully cool air. Sniper decided to pass out the rest of his food rations to his mates in good faith, although Spy refused to so much as touch his “filthy bushmeat.” His portion, along with the still-unconscious Scout’s, was happily distributed among the other members. 

10 minutes and a slipped $250 later, they were stumbling back onto the simmering asphalt. The truck roared away as the team hiked the short gravel path to their base, the snoozing guard was awakened to let them through, and they were finally home. 

Not that anyone was too thrilled about that, however, besides the chance to get out of the sun and sit. Their “home” for the past three months was essentially an un-airconditioned two-story shack, that was about 10 sizes too small for eight rambunctious men with guns. Only Medic and Engineer had their own space, the other five crammed between two small bedrooms, and nobody knew where the hell Spy went at night. A living room, kitchen, and bathroom was all that embellished the space. And with today’s loss, it’d be best that respawn be kept on through the night. 

Sniper could stand the place enough for dinner and the occasional game, but he’d go crazy for any longer duration. He’d be happily staying in his camper alone for the rest of the day. Maybe the week. 

The shack a short jog off, Pyro suddenly dropped his weapons and started sprinting towards it with a mumbled yell; then Soldier was chasing after him, launcher clanging to the ground and helmet bobbing. 

“Oh no, your ass isn’t taking all the hot water again; that’s an order!”

The Medigun dragged along the ground a few steps before it too was abandoned by dashing Medic.  
“How about saving some for zhe poor medic, huh?”  
“Doctor must take care of Scout. I will take hot shower for you.”  
Scout was tossed into Medic’s arms, then Heavy was in the race barrelling for the door. Medic gave a long sigh and followed half-heartedly, looking ready to relinquish Scout to the desert floor too.

Sniper, Engineer, and Demoman hung there for a moment in the stifling quiet of a hot desert day, and looked to each other, then the surrounding neglected weapons and equipment. Engineer tsked and hefted Soldier’s rocket launcher in hand. 

“I reckon if we pick up after these boys, we can get out’ve dishes for a week.”  
“Aye…” 

The three of them packed away the team’s mess, which wasn’t an unusual sight. Sniper caught Engie as they made their last trip.

“You feelin’ up for a chat n’ coffee, mate? The cab’s got air conditionin’, at least.”   
Engie smiled but shook his head.   
“Nah, think I’m gonna get to work on a cooling system for the house. I’ve been sweatin’ so bad my hinges are startin’ to rust.”  
Sniper nodded, discreetly a bit relieved as he headed for his van. He had the visit of a bloody Spy to prepare for, afterall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My laptop became incompatible with Overwatch, so I started playing TF2 again. Then I remembered how good Sniper/Spy was. Out of curiosity, I dug up an old plot draft. And here we are.
> 
> This'll be a good few chapters, and as long as I get encouragement, I'll keep it coming as soon as I can.
> 
> Edit July 2018  
> After leaving this for a year to set and simmer with 4 chapter, I've decided to return to reedit. And yeesh. Hopefully this is an improvement, and I might go ahead and keep writing for this again if I get the momentum.


	2. Rendevous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex and feelings

His slippers made a light slap on the splintered stairs as he descended. He lingered on the bottom step to peek out the stairwell— everyone awake was occupied in the kitchen, nursing their wounds with clinking mugs while a slurring Demoman spun one of his infamous tales. Only Red Spy was seated in the dim livingroom, who gave the man the barest glance from his magazine as the Aussie quickly dashed for the back door. 

The night air hit him with cool relief from the cramped house. The sky was stubbornly holding on to bits of blues and violets as the sun’s warmth crept away, and the stars were starting to bloom across the inky field. A swarm of bugs were buzzing around the porchlight that Sniper swatted away. He stepped off the porch and hummed as he took in the scene, adjusting his robe and wrestling a hand through his damp hair. He looked up and gazed at the clearcut stars. He still wasn’t sure, after all these years, if he found it more fascinating or disturbing that these weren’t the same stars he’d wonder at as a wee ankle biter, despite the environment being achingly familiar. 

After a minute or so, he shrugged out of his head and continued down the faintly marked path to the barn. 

Memories were stuck in his head, though, of when he’d venture out on the weekends just to get a better look at those celestial lights. And that got him thinking deeper on the fact that, despite their many outings, Sniper technically had yet to take Blu out. The snake had taken him to town plenty of times, sometimes even to the bigger cities, so they could mix with the “normal” life in bars and theatres and casinos; Spy kept insisting he wanted to show the bushman “the life he’d missed out on,” the life in which the scoundrel thrived. And Sniper appreciated it, really, and he found it all fun and thrilling and sometimes overbearing. But maybe it was time he’d shown Spy how he spent _his_ younger years, under the uncivilized sky with nothing but a canteen and a big knife. Pah… He caught himself smiling at the thought of Blu in the Outback, with his damn suit n’ mask and tiny balisong. He’d have to do some whipping to keep the snake from keeling over, for sure. Really though, maybe he should bring it up tonight…

He glanced up toward the silhouette of the old barn that sat at the edge of the base. Engineer sometimes scoured through it for spare parts, but otherwise it was a empty and useless construction hazard. The best use it had was as a landmark to point people Sniper’s way. Sniper’s van sat next to it, only just catching the glint of the lights from the house, back facing it. Far enough away that the ruckus didn’t breach the space, close enough that Sniper could get to his team in a quick jog. 

He’d left the lights on as a beacon for a certain someone, but it was too early for that someone’s appearance. He had time to tidy himself up nice and maybe think over things to bring up. He exhaled softly and gave a last gaze at the stars before hiking a foot on the bumper to yank open the creaky camper door. 

And he about jumped out of his slippers when, instead of a nice, _unoccupied_ space, there was a dark and nicely-dressed figure sitting at his table, smoke curled about his head and foot tapping on the chair. The man looked up from a crinkled hunting magazine to meet Sniper’s startled eyes, a pretty smile perked on his lips. 

“Bonsoir.”

“You scared the living lights out’ve me, you damn mongrel…” Sniper grumbled and raised himself inside, clanking the door shut behind him. Spy tossed the magazine aside and flicked his ashes into the tray Sniper’d just cleaned, only gazing at the marksman idly as he tossed off his slippers and pulled up a chair across from him. Then the spy let his eyes go heavy and sat his jaw on his palm with a soft smile, and everything in Sniper went mushy. 

“Yoar rather early,” Sniper commented quietly, trying to swallow down the fluttery nervousness building in his chest. 

“Oui, I decided to slip away while the drunken célébration reached its peak. Just back from the shower?”

Sniper nodded, rubbing the wet tangles at his neck.  
“Didn’t want to lose my head o’er a shower, so I waited out. Though, everyone seems in a lot better mood now… After the grog came out, that is.”

Spy hummed a laugh and settled his gaze on his cigarette.

“I wish I had come earlier to join you. Tell me your plans, next time.”

 

The hitch in Sniper’s throat couldn’t quite stop his sputter. 

“Whot, join me in the shower?!”  
“Hm? Of course. Would you object?”

 _It’s been too long._ The snake’s grin only grew slier with the flush that inched up the Aussie’s neck.  
“Yer outta yoar damn head, bloody Spook…”

“It sounds like a challenge, mon ami.” Spy winked, but his attention wandered off before Sniper could stutter a retort.  
“I will say though, you’ve done a fine job cleaning up. Not a _filthy piss jar_ in sight, this time. It smells délicieux as well, did you cook dinner?”

Sniper sighed softly and tugged his robe tighter around him. He was already feeling flustered and fluttered, he wished ‘e’d said somethin’ clever back. He just needed warming up, was all…

“Yeah, didn’t want my head lobbed off for that either. Want some? Made snags.”

Spy shook his head and gave a laughing “non” as if the question were ridiculous. It was. 

“We had a victory feast ourselves, mon cher, I’ve had plenty.” That was his polite excuse. Spy flicked his ashes again and returned his attention to Sniper.  
“How was the walk, by the way?”

“Eh, nothin’ for me o’course, but you’da thought we was trekkin’ weeks through the Sahara, the way the team was acting… Scout didn’t make it half through ‘fore passing out.” 

Spy chuckled with him. 

“We got picked up for the last stretch, though.” Sniper’s head tilted a tick. “Been thinkin’, I’m s’prised I’ve never heard _you_ whinin’ about it. Lord knows yoar counterpart did.”

 

Spy’s brows cocked, his mouth twitched, then he stamped out his finished cigarette with a nod and smirk. Sniper happily claimed himself a small victory for correctly guessing that yes, of course Spy found some sneaky alternative to sweating through the desert. 

“You’ve been around me too long, mon ami. Indeed, I’ve set up a sort of _arrangement_ with one of the truck boys. I sneak out and get an easy ride back to base after a loss.” 

Sniper would’ve been laughing at the damn weasel’s ability to cheat around the suffering of his team, if he hadn’t been distracted by how his heart dropped 10 inches at the mentions of _“arrangement”;_ the pang of jealousy that shuddered through him was jarring.

“An ‘arrangement?’” he repeated lowly, brows dropping. “Now c’mon, mate…”

Spy tsked and put his hands up in defense, while Sniper felt a playful nudge against his leg. 

“Now now, Monsieur Sniper, there is nothing in our relationship agreement that says I can’t put use to my devilish charm— it would be a poor waste of my talents if so. I just accompany him, nothing more.”

Sniper’s heart shot right back into sunshiney clouds, but burning embarrassment followed with the grin the snake gave him. _He was a gettin’ kick out’ve ‘is jealousy, wasn’t he? Damn spook…_

“Ah yeah?” Sniper continued with a grimace. “Must be bloody _desperate_ if ‘e’s wantin’ yoar company.”

Spy tutted and leaned in to offer his hand to the disgruntled Aussie. Sniper stared at it for a good moment… then took it with a grunt. Spy entangled his dainty fingers with Sniper’s rough digits. 

“Mon cher… He _is_ desperate. A young man who just flunked out of college and is slowly losing his enchantment with the world, scouring unholy places for measly jobs. But, apparently, I ‘inspire’ him. He is ‘impressed’ with my aged wisdom and elegance… In other words, he is in love with me and doesn’t even know it. But, of course, I just entertain his infatuation for the free ride, nothing more.” 

Sniper gave in with a sigh, that damn face was just too sincere to be annoyed with his verbal theatrics. He let his grievance drain away to pull Spy’s hand to his cheek. 

“An ignorant bloke entranced by your wicked charms? Sounds familiar.” 

“Indeed.” Spy chuckled and swipped out his cigarette case with his free hand. 

 

Sniper perked suddenly, reminded of his previous musings. 

“Speakin’ of desert walks… you got anything planned for the weekend?”

Spy blinked in interest as he elegantly placed the cigarette between his perched lips and flipped open the meticulously engraved silver lighter whose flashiness still made Sniper smirk. 

“I know we’ve been parted for a while, mon cher. I was thinking maybe the cinema? Our Engineer won’t shut up about that new ‘Star Wars’ or whatever film. Should I book a room for the weekend, or will you be busy?”  
Spy took his first drag on his cigarette, then gave a good thinking pause after.  
“But also… I might remind you that we’ll be off until next Friday, this round. In theory, we’d have the potential to spend the whole week together. If you’d like.”

 

Sniper’s brows rose in realization. It was the end of the three month cycle, wasn’t it? They had a week break. But Spy had never brought off-weeks up before, they usually just dated on the weekend then maybe had a few visits throughout… _Was, was this an invitation to a new step?_  
Sniper swallowed as lead anticipation bubbled in his chest.

“Is, uh, that an offer?”

“...Depends on if you would accept it.”

A smile bloomed on the sniper’s face and he squeezed Spy’s hand. 

“That sounds bloody nice, mate.”

Spy’s face lit up to match the marksman’s.  
“Merci, mon amour…”

Sniper focused on Spy’s hand, rubbing at the glove’s edge idly. Spy’s eyes were heavy and glinting with satisfaction, clearly pleased with Sniper’s response.  
“But could I make a suggestion, love?”  
His pretty blue-grays glanced up at Sniper’s question. 

“Quoi?”

“Think, maybe, we could kinda split it up? You have your few days n’ I have mine?”

Spy sucked on his cigarette thoughtfully, expression perked with interest. 

“Yes, of course. Do you mean that you have something in mind, for once?”

 

Sniper tsked, but that debilitating nervousness was creeping back up his spine; the kind of heart-thumping fit of anxiety he got from lining up a game changing shot, and also Spy.

 _Calm down lad, it’s just a simple request, nothin’ even important,_ Sniper tried to remind himself as Spy patiently waited.

“Ah, mate… I was just thinkin’, lookin’ at the stars tonight, uh, how you’ve taken me all around town n’ whatnot, but I ain’t taken you out to the countryside yet… Y’know, _my_ specialty. So I was thinkin’ maybe we could go out and camp for a few nights?”

Anticipation like stones in his chest, he sunk further and further down in his chair as Spy took a while to answer, rolling his cigarette between his fingers while he regarded Sniper. _Why’d he even bother aski—_

“You are suggesting we venture in the wilderness, with just your van?” Spy took a long drag on his smoke. “Just us, baking under the desert sun, miles from our teammates and bases and a respectable bathroom.”

 

Sniper had sunk to about eye-level with the table at this point. Spy’s tone wasn’t even snarky or cynical, but Sniper got the message clear. He’d probably just suggested the worst possible thing to the prissy Frenchman. 

_“Miles from our teammates and bases…”_ That phrasing hit him. _Miles from our respective teams… with no respawn. Oh._

“Yeah yeah, yoar right mate.” Sniper huffed and shouldered himself back up, abandoning Spy’s hand to scratch at his stubble and fidget with his robe belt. He looked anywhere but the gentlemen across the table. “It’sa ridiculous idea. We can spend the week in town— that’s fine with me. Did you ‘ave anything special planned?”

Spy’s snort startled Sniper.  
“Mon cher, I didn’t say a word in protest,” Spy retorted with a confused giggle. “I think it’s a splendid idea, honestly.” 

“Whot?” Sniper was suddenly up and leaning across the table. “Really? Y’ain’t yankin’ me, are ya?”

“Non, not yet,” Spy chuckled, “But I think it would be a fantastic getaway. No noise, no interruptions, no risk of being recognized or caught… And if there were anyone in this world that I would camp with, it would be you _Bushman.”_

Spy smiled endearingly with the marksman’s grinning excitement. 

“You’ve got that damn right, love. You ain’t gonna get a better outdoors experience than with a fullblooded Auss—”  
“Of course, it’s not just your heritage and experience that has me interested, mon cher.”

Spy suddenly closed the space between them, meeting Sniper in the middle to fold his hands under his chin, inches from his face. That distinctive smell of expensive cologne and tar hit him, and the youthful excitement in Sniper shifted into something else. 

“For example… We could be under the stars all night, and under the sun all day without giving a damn about being seen, or _heard,_ being as _loud_ as we wished… It sounds sensationnel, mon amour.”

 

The simmering under Sniper’s skin sparked into a blaze. His heart was in his throat as Spy’s intention became clear with that mischievous smirk, he could feel the heat of his face on his skin… 

“Y-yeah, ‘spose that’s a bonus…”

“Is it something you’ve done before?”

“Not really, nah… Dreamt of it b’fore though.”

“Dreamt of it?”

“Well, more ‘fantasized,’ I guess…” 

“Oh? May I ask, have I been included in those fantasies before, mon amour?”

Sniper swallowed with a nervous snicker. 

“‘Course you have, yah damn snake.”

 _Finally,_ the bastard kissed him. He ran his gloved hand around and up the back of Sniper’s neck to pull him to his warm lips. It was more of a sweet and soft thing, an “I missed you” sort of kiss, with Spy’s pretty eyes fluttering while Sniper held his face with a contented sigh. It only lasted a few seconds when Spy pulled away with a pleased hum, but it left Sniper heated like a heavy pash. 

“I should admit then, Monsieur Sniper,” Spy gave him a dreaming look, “that I have shared the same fantasy, traveling around with you… Of course, I would suggest the condition that we’d tour the shores of Europe before crawling through the Outback.”

“Heh, guess I can settle for that…” Sniper’s chest was chockered with a fuzzy, giddy feeling, and he couldn’t stop smiling. Spy’s suggestions ran deep with unexplored implications that were making his head spin. But that was all matters to think on later, ‘cause now he was pulling the Frenchman back to his lips. 

“Y’know, I’ve missed your dumb mug.” He moved past his soft lips to ghost over his masked jaw. “Three weeks, can’t a bloke get a call?”

Spy chuckled at the disheartened joke and thumbed over the marksman’s ear. 

“Why, did you worry for me?”

“You know how it goes… Could’ve been dead for all I knew. Didn’t even glance your arse prancin’ around the field till this arvo.”

Spy just laughed again as he tilted his head to Sniper’s smooches. The Aussie was trying to contain himself, but the flush was growing unbearably hot as his hands started roaming the spy’s back. 

“You should know better than to be concerned, Monsieur ‘Professional.’ But, yes, I missed you too, and I apologize for not keeping in touch. I was very busy.” 

“Hm… Spy stuff?”

“Oui. Spy stuff.”

 

Spy let Sniper kiss on him for a minute more, down his neck and at the edge of his collar, before he pulled away with a lingering touch, standing with the ashtray in hand. 

“By judgement of your actions, I don’t think you’d be opposed if we ‘got down to business,’ non?”

“That’s one way of puttin’ it.”

Sniper stood and rubbed at his red elbows. He was flushed and tensed and maybe breathing a little rugged. Spy looked over him with amusement, while the marksmen adjusted his hair nervously. 

“Told ya, I missed you. Lots.”

“Well, then,” Spy waltzed to the counters opposite of the table and set his ashtray and cigarette to smolder. “Being so eager, have you made ‘plans’ mon amour?”

“Actually, yeah…”

“Then I will let you do your work.”

On the cue, Sniper first folded the table down and the chairs up to stash in the corner. 

“So then, are we spending the week together?” Spy queried him as he watched him work with intense eyes. 

“Definitely, if you want. But we can figure out the details tomorrow.” Sniper stooped to the undercabinets.

“I was just going to suggest that you don’t _spoil_ me all at once,” Spy chuckled. “Is your ‘plan’ a surprise?”

“Of sorts, yeah,” Sniper smirked as he pulled out a large, soft blue blanket. “But yoar gonna have to _behave.”_  
“Hm, I suppose I’ll try my best.”

Sniper unfurled the blanket onto the floor and spread it out nicely. It wasn’t much space, but it was the most they could get. He surveyed it for a moment, then went to switch off the lights, only the desk lamp at Sniper’s bed providing a dim glow. 

“Should I undress?” Spy was taking off his watch and securing it in his pants pocket. 

“Actually…” Sniper went back to the undercabinet.  
“Take off the suit jacket, it’s too stiff, n’ leave the shoes an’ socks off. Everything else stays on. For now.”

Sniper reached to the far back of the cabinet, and brought out a cool bottle of lube. He stared at it for a good moment… while hot flashes of embarrassment squeezed his chest. Between the sound of Spy undressing behind him and holding the item he’d be using to _fuck_ him, his conscience nerves were starting to twitch—

“Feeling alright, Monsieur?”

“Yep.” Sniper shook himself and closed the cabinet to shuffle on his knees towards the foot of the blanket spread, setting the lube to the side. He looked up as Spy shouldered off his big suit jacket and neatly folded it on the counter.

With that overpadded, overcompensating jacket off, the spy’s thin dress shirt revealed his true features— a body that was a compelling synthesis of luxurious elegance, with delicate slopes and soft lines, and the product of their “atypical” lifestyle, with generously defined muscles and hardened skin. His sleeves were rolled up to his biceps and the shirt bottom was tidily tucked into silk slacks. Obstacles for Sniper to consider. 

Spy obliged to cast aside his tie as well, to which Sniper didn’t object. Then shoes were put aside with socks following. Sniper became aware that Spy became aware that he was watching him, with the gentleman putting in those small flourishes into his movements. _The devil._

Spy regarded Sniper after he’d tucked his socks away. 

“Awaiting instructions, Monsieur.”

“Alright… Lay on the blanket, on yer back, feet towards me.”

Spy nodded and moved to order, though Sniper could see the soft smirk on his face from being commanded. Sniper bit the inside of his lip at the detail. The Frenchman took his time settling his lanky body down, laying on his back as instructed, knees bent and crossing his arms behind his head. He couldn’t look up at Sniper, but his foot tapped against his leg expectantly. 

“Okay…” Sniper took a deep inhale. “You ready, love?”

“Please.”

 _Right…_ Sniper watched the rise and fall of Spy’s chest for a moment as he tried to ground himself, then crawled forward on his knees to Spy’s middle. Spy glanced at him but only smiled trustingly, which made Sniper shudder. 

First… He reached forward and tenderly grabbed a wrist from under his head. Spy let it go unhindered, and Sniper pulled his arm to him, hand at his mouth. 

He avoided his lover’s curious gaze to study those dainty, blood-spilling fingers that were rarely unhidden beneath black gloves. He brushed them past his lips and followed down the curve of his thumb to his wrist, where dark leather met pale skin. There, he took the material in his teeth and tugged at it— which immediately rose a field of goosebumps down Spy’s arm. Smirking, he got a good grip and pulled on the tight glove, slowly revealing more and more soft skin before those elegant digits and deep nailbeds were exposed. The hand clenched as he tossed the glove to the side, then gently laid the arm back over Spy’s head. Smiling, Spy lifted his other arm for Sniper’s pleasure. 

“I see your game, mon cher.”

“Oh, you think so?”

“Oui. And I think I like it.”

“Good to hear, mate.” 

He tugged off the other gloves, his teeth admittedly aching a bit, then placed the hand back with the other. Alright, he was starting to feel a little better… He kept watching the rise and fall of Spy’s chest and focusing on the supple details of his hands, and it was helping dispel his nerves. But he couldn’t drag things out too long… With an inhale, he continued. 

He always hated the damn shirt buttons. The buttons on a polo were the most he could handle. Tiny nubs for big fingers, which’d caused plenty of shirt casualties when impatience won out. Again, though, the attention to the small task was calming his nerves, and, as bristly chest hair starting brushing his fingers… 

Fourth button down, he acted on an impulse and moved to lay a kiss at the opened space— Spy gasped lightly and wiggled a bit. He deftly popped another button and followed with his lips, then continued down down down. Spy was steadily writhing when he reached his navel, and hips were shifting when he snapped the last button and left a lingering kiss on his waist. 

Sniper swallowed and sat back to admire his work. Spy had his arm over his eyes now as his skin flushed, breath picked up in his exposed chest. Sniper’s jaw tensed as he wandered over that strong but elegant torso, the subtle abs and sloping hip lines…

“...Keep goin’?”

Spy peeked an eye at him from under his arm. 

“S'il te plaît.”

Teeth digging into his smirking lips, Sniper turned over options in his head. That twitching, delightfully-kissable midsection still had his attention… His hands encusped Spy’s sides easily, as he reached and slowly ran his thumbs up those gorgeous hipbones he’d been admiring… Spy’s nose twitched with a low whine. Okay, right. He should move on.  
He reached and placed a quick peck on his waistline before sliding his hands down to the zipper of his navy slacks. 

 

He hitched when he felt a particular bulge against his fingers, which made him painfully aware of his own brushing against his coarse robe. _Damn…_ Spy was watching him again, mouth pulled tight, only amplifying the matter. He fidgeted with the tiny zipper for a good few seconds, tension growing by bounds, and he reached and unhooked the pants button the moment he managed to inch it down—

 _Woah there…_ He only just stopped himself from shoving Spy’s pants off immediately. His fingers were curled in the waistband, teeth hurting his lips now… Right, he shook the haze from his mind and steadied himself, then _slowly_ stripped the slacks down to his knees. Which elicited low moan from his lover.

Sniper glanced up at that, surprised to find that the bloke’d become a finger-bitin’, sweating, heavy-breathing mess while he was distracted. _Gah…_ His heart was in his throat seeing the proud and prosperous Frenchman writhing under his touch. _God, he was bloody beautiful…_ He pulled the pants the rest of the way, past curled toes and to the side.

Now… Spy was laid out like unbutchered game to him. Shirt flayed open to a heaving chest, flanks bare, quads tensed, only bulging briefs and the everpresent mask outlining his boundaries. Hm… He could always crawl up and go for the ol’ face of course, but that’d inevitably lead to grabbin’ n’ ruttin’, which he wasn’t sure he could recover from. Nah, it’d have to be the perfect pace, nothing too hasty but nothing that’d try their patience. 

The legs… He thought over a moment, then shuffled back to Spy’s knees. His lover had calmed down a bit, breathing deep and eyes covered like he was awaiting the next course of action. He tensed right back up though when Sniper took a hold of his nearest lower thigh, and his body arched as the sniper tenderly worked his hands up. When sniper reached his briefs and started teasing at the tensed fabric, however, Spy snapped up on his elbows, and Sniper froze. 

_“S'il te plaît,_ please, I, I can’t stand much more, mon cher, _please…”_

The spy’s eyes were hazy with desperation while his tongue peeked at his lips with heavy breathing, his whole body showing lines of frustration… Sniper carefully pulled his hands back with a hum, surprised as hell. 

“Thought you was the resilient type... “

Spy’s teeth bit at his lips and the damn look he was givin’ ‘im was making Sniper’s body throb. 

“I have missed you, missed you dearly… Je suis désolé, but I’ve been _aching_ for it…”

Sniper swallowed as heat flooded up his face. Ah hell, maybe he picked a poor time for this little scheme… Scratch that, thinking on it now, he’d picked an awful time. It was nice to go slow, but now that Spy mentioned it, he was feeling the ghosts of those lonely and exhaustive nights tingle all down his body… Right. He met Spy’s eyes, reading him clearly. _I appreciate it, but please, I’m about to explode with or without you._

Spy groaned when the Aussie reached forward and grappled the band of his briefs to tug them down. The heat in Sniper’s chest blazed into an overwhelming desire as his lover’s flushed member came to attention, that beautiful thing that made his throat tighten. Spy helped him with kicking his undergarment the rest of the way, then eagerly lurched himself forward so he was sitting on knees across from Sniper, shedding his shirt so he was completely bare now aside his mask, chest glistened with sweat and desperate erection bobbing needily. He suddenly noted a dribble leaking from the member, and he realized the direness of the situation. 

“...Yoar bloody gorgeous, y’know that?”

Sniper was caught up as he smirked at his lovely snake in all his raw elegance, but Spy just tsked and rolled his eyes a bit, jaw tight. 

“I will take your word for it, mon cher.”

Sniper snickered. Right, sweet talk _after,_ unless they were caught up in a more gentle and romantic pash, and that was not the case here. 

So he trailed his hands down to his robe belt, and made quick work of undoing it and stripping his only article off his shoulders. His body stiffened and tingled when the air hit his heated skin, and he had to take a moment to gather himself. 

He opened his eyes to Spy sitting like an eager fox, teeth at his lips and eyes darting all over the Bushman’s body. Sniper clicked his tongue, sorta wondering if he could get away with torturing him a bit more— then, at the twitch of his cock, he opened his arms.

“‘Mere ya crook—”

A surprised yelp melted into a moan as Spy sprung to tangle his deft fingers in Sniper’s hair and pull the Aussie to his warm lips. The rest of his body followed like fluid, he spread his thighs over Sniper’s lap and brought them chest-to-chest. Sniper was left in a heaving and hazy mess between the fingers tugging at his hair, the swollen lips eagerly consuming his, and the rock-hard dick nudging against his belly. A hot tongue slipped between his teeth and rushed into the space as Spy started moving his hips against him, sweat-slicked over his lap, and Sniper about jumped when he felt intimate bits caress his aching cock. 

“Mate, I, c-calm down…” He managed to pull away to hold Spy’s shoulders and look him in the eyes. Spy smacked his wet lips dazedly with the slightest pout. Sniper chuckled breathlessly and leaned in close, pressing his sweaty forehead to Spy’s damp mask. 

“Least, least we could get is a proper rootin’, huh? You said no spoilin’... Think we both deserve somethin’ be’er than hasty humpin’.”

Spy’s grimace grew a degree as he took a moment of consideration, then his mouth twitched with a hum and he dipped down to Sniper’s neck. The marksman was relieved when the spy pressed soft, roaming kisses there, instead of vicious bites of defiance. 

Sniper tilted his head back with a pleased sigh, able to concentrate now that his lover wasn’t rutting his lap. He let his hands wander down the flowing muscles of Spy’s backside, brushing the occasional scar, down to press into the supple small of his back, further down to his suppler ass where he got a steady grip and gave a firm squeeze. Spy whined and nipped in response, which sent a jolt over Sniper’s unattended cock. 

He swallowed under Spy’s teeth and tried to focus on moving his fingers around the curve of Spy’s soft ass to tease two fingers at the boundary. Spy softly gasped and gave a throaty noise in response, Sniper could feel his breath pick up against his neck. He stiffened in surprise when Spy rolled his hips back and forced Sniper’s digits deeper, where he was just on the edge of his lover’s hot entrance. 

“You want it?” He turned his head down to press kisses along Spy’s cheeks, feeling flushed skin under the fabric.

 _“Oui.”_ He didn’t think he’d ever heard French so adamant and growled out before. He nodded but didn’t immediately move to change pace. 

“Nice n’ easy, love…”

Sniper let Spy maul his neck again as he traced his fingers up Spy’s entrance— soft and clean, with fine hair that Sniper liked to pull and tease. The muscles reacted immediately when he brushed past his hole, bloomin’ prettily against his touch. He made a few more rounds while Spy hissed and sucked at his neck, then gently prodded his finger into the entrance.

He was pleasantly surprised by how easily Spy’s passage gave in to his first digit. _Bastard must’ve been preppin’..._ He followed his second with a healthy amount of resistance. Then he slowly twirled his fingers around the contracting muscle, still staying shallow, giving the slightest curl… It practically melted under his caress, and so did Spy.  
The professional assassin was off his neck now as he craned his head back with varying expressions of deep pleasure. Sniper watched his neck and chest and thighs strain, and _god_ he was hard, unhelped by Spy’s dick bobbing against his belly. But he was calmer now focusing on his job, and he pulled Spy closer by the hips so he could softly push deeper. 

He was moving with ease now, his lover’s muscles lax and pliable. He gave a few strokes of his fingers, but the way Spy whimpered and arched in response— that would be enough, if he wanted to get his proper resolution. Spy was running out of will, and his sore dick was running out of patience. He was glad it was hanging free, ‘cause he had a feeling the lightest unexpected touch would send him careening. 

“Feel loose ‘nough?” he hummed lowly, pausing his movements. Spy swallowed down his keening long enough to look at Sniper and nod, eyelids shuddering as he panted through wet, parted lips. Sniper held the small of his back as he gently retracted his fingers from the warm passage, then traced his slickened fingers back over curve of Spy’s ass, then down his thigh. He got an eyefull of that pretty cock dipping dangerously close to his, and he couldn’t help leaning forward and kissing that gorgeous face as he fumbled around for the lube at his side. Spy moaned into his mouth and tightened his grip in Sniper’s hair, but his eyes flared when he heard Sniper pop the lube open. Sniper looked up in surprise when the bottle was sharply snatched from his hands and Spy pulled back, inspecting it with a grimace. Then his eyes darted from the lube to Sniper’s then down to the Aussie’s cock, which suddenly demanded Sniper’s attention again with a sharp pulse. Sniper’s throat tightened as Spy tipped the bottle and coated his fingers in that frivolously elegant way of his. 

“Allow me the favor…” Spy smirked up at Sniper. “Just sit back for the ride, mon amour. I have the rest.”

Blood rushed to the poles of Sniper’s body as he watched Spy spread the clear liquid over his palm. He had the same look as when he was playfully threatening with his damn knife. Spy tossed the bottle to the side, then raised his brows to Sniper. 

“Oui?”

“Y-yeah mate… Jus’ be careful…”

Sniper expected to lose himself or at least flinch when Spy wrapped his fingers around his aching rod, but instead he felt a steady flow of relief as the Frenchman applied the perfect amount of pressure and worked into it with expert care. The spy started with his fingertips brushing light touches down his cock, then tenderly wrapping them around and pushing his thumb under to glide up the shaft. As he came down, the Aussie’s dick already nice and slick, he put the shaft in his full grip and let it linger there for a moment. 

Sniper let out a deep exhale as rivulets of pleasure watered his burning need, finally relieved of the aching neglect in his cock. The lube was cool on his blood-pumped skin and his rod was pulsing in the spy’s hand, a feeling that was seeping into his loins. Spy slowly worked his way up the shaft, giving the head an affectionate swipe, then slid back down to the base. 

“Sure you don’t want me to suck you off?”  
Sniper cracked his eyes open in surprise, to a snake with a grin and glinting eyes.  
He huffed.

“Y’know, I didn’ go through that ‘ole ordeal to _not_ fuck yer arse.”

Spy raised his brows and shrugged.  
“It would be no problem for me, mon amour. But if you insist…”

Spy removed his hand to slide the excess slickness up Sniper’s chest. The ache shot back with the sore absence of Spy’s grip, but the Frenchman slipping his thighs up Sniper’s lap and levering himself up by his shoulders, his cock bundled against his stomach, eyes cast downward with a hazed mixture of love and lust, had him totally lost in the sensations.

“Prêt mon cher?”

“Oui.”

He knew Spy loved that. He knew it in his sweet smile and the hands that squeezed his shoulders and the kiss he pressed to his nose, before he allowed his hips to sink, eyes closed in concentration, carefully lining himself until Sniper’s lubed dick was throbbing against his ass. Spy put his sweaty forehead against Sniper’s as he expertly moved his body to take in Sniper’s tip, hands clenching, then slid down, Sniper’s shaft riding up his entrance, descending until he was sitting fully on Sniper’s lap, buried in Sniper’s neck as he breathed.

“Ahhh… Bloody _fuck…”_

Sniper didn’t have time to bask in the pure pleasure that thundered through him as Spy rolled his hips. Not only was Sniper’s dick driving deeper into his lover, but Spy’s own was now hard-pressed against his middle, and Sniper couldn’t contain the loud moan that was drawn from him. Spy was being merciless, only pausing to shudder against Sniper’s chest before rolling again. Now he set a pace, going slow and deep, arching back with his hands anchored on Sniper’s shoulders as he fucked himself on Sniper’s pulsing rod, groans and pants and whines growing more and more desperate. Not that Sniper could hear them much, in his own cacophony of carnal noises and clenched muscles. 

“Ah, fuck, fucking hell, Spy…”

“Hah, haa… Is it good, mon cher?”

Sniper just exhaled in response. He knew neither of them was going to last much longer. After flatlining at midpoint for so long, the ride up to the climax was fast and steep. Spy’s next thrust had a particular force to it that hit him just right— he surged right into that territory of the uncontrollable, uncontainable ramp-up to orgasm, and fortunately Spy did too. The next five or so seconds was nothing but gripping, groping, bucking desperation as Sniper tried to futilely drive deeper into his lover while Spy rode him in brisk, powerful thrusts that overthrew Sniper’s strength completely. Sniper could only register the warm and tight feel of Spy’s ass around his spasming cock and the blazing, consuming pleasure searing in his loins as he grappled Spy’s ass for life—

“Ah...G-Gah! F...fuckk…” 

Spy fell forward on his chest in a sweaty, panting, shaking mess. After a good moment of his head swimming, Sniper managed to stir out of his high enough to wrap his equally messy body around him, breathing against his neck while Spy’s heartbeat drummed through his skin, his own accelerated pulse matching. They just held eachother quietly for a good minute as the that fantastic flood of serotonin seeped through their system, then Spy rose to kiss Sniper’s cheek. 

_“Mon amour…”_

Sniper slipped his hand down Spy’s soaked back and returned with a warm kiss to his lips. Spy hummed happily and raised his arms around Sniper’s neck, but they were both too tired to go any further than that. 

On that note, with a last kiss to his mate’s jaw, he moved to gently pull away. He wasn’t one for staying sheathed, that was more Spy’s deal… Spy obliged and carefully crawled back to let Sniper slip out. The dribbling of slick that followed made Sniper shudder, but Spy sighed contently and laid back on the blanket, and Sniper decided to dispel his thoughts and follow suit. 

Spy adjusted himself to lay on the Aussie’s chest the moment he settled. Sniper smirked and put his arm around the limber Frenchman and thumbed over the crown of his mask, where he could feel the imprints of the soft hair he fantasized about frequently. 

“So, mate… How was it?”

"Mm ... Fantastique. Ta bite, fantastique ... Et toi aussi, bien sur."

“Sure, yah snake,” Sniper chuckled. He noticed Spy’s eyes getting heavy, and realized he was feeling the same.

“Oui, mon ‘serpent’ l'a apprécié…” Spy was laughing to himself, but of course the Aussie didn’t understand any of his mumblings. 

They laid in silence for a few minutes. Sniper was perfectly content in his love’s embrace, replaying some highlights of their romp in his head, thinking in repeat _how damn lucky he was to ‘ave ‘im, how the hell did a Bloke like him catch such a magnificent bastard, god he loved him…_ That got him thinking, though, and after a bit he tapped his mate’s shoulder.

“Ey, love, can I ask you somethin’?”

“Hm?” Spy raised his head to look up at him. He looked like he was just ready to drift off, Sniper felt a little bad.  
“Oui, of course. Quoi?”

Sniper’s fingers fidgeted nervously as he fought over his words. 

“Y’know, you were talkin’ earlier, ‘bout travelin’ the world wit’ me, an… Don’t know, guess I’m wanderin’, that mean yoar plannin’ on stickin’ with me after all’ve… _this?”_

Spy’s brows raised, then quirked, then furrowed. Sniper swallowed and fumbled out a further explanation. 

“I-I mean, I wasn’t sure, y’know, the way things are, uh, if we’re… I just don’t know, is this something long term? Was that the plan all along? I don’t know…”

Spy crawled up so he was next to his ear and wrapped round his shoulders. The Frenchman nuzzled his neck a bit to put his nerves at ease. 

“Mon cher, oui, ‘long-term’ was the implication. I thought after 8 months with no ending agreement that it was clear, but I suppose that is a lack of communication on my part…”

Sniper tsked and turned to face him. 

“Really? Didn’t think you liked me that much, heh…”

Spy frowned again and brought his hand up to caress the Aussie’s jawline. 

“Why not?”

Sniper’s heart was thumpin’ in his head all over again. He bit at his lip as he thought it over. 

“Well, y’know, we ain’t talked about it much…”

Spy sighed softly and shifted to lay on his back, Sniper’s hand clutched to his chest. 

“Again, that is a lack of communication on my part, mon amour… But, I’m trying to go at _your_ pace, and your pace is very slow.”

Sniper arched his brows.

“Wha’s that mean?”

“I know this is your first serious relationship with a man, and I know how intimidated and frightened you were at first… We’ve talked about this extensively, oui?”

Sniper exhaled. Yeah, he remembered… Meeting in towns over, crossed arms and clenched jaws, flinching at the gentlest touch. A long, long ways off…

 

“Well,” Spy continued, “I know we have gotten significantly better since, but I still don’t want to scare you… I told you, in the beginning, I am an extremist in relationships. A majority of my past involvements have been flings, temporary arrangements with no obligations and no strings… but if I come into a relationship that is expected to be more than the occasional weekend all-fun rendevous, then it is a full commitment for me. I know I haven’t expressed it so much— again, I didn’t wish to intimidate you— but yes, I plan to ‘stick with you’ for the foreseeable future… for as long as you will have me, at least.”

The following silence was crushing. He could feel the tension tightening in Spy’s chest as the atmosphere grew heavier. But he couldn’t move. 

“...Is… Is that okay, Monsieur? Or… Did your ideas differ? _Oh non, j'ai trop dit—”_  
“S-sorry, sorry, I was, just… Kinda wish you’d told me all that earlier, mate. Puts a lot of relief in my mind. Thought maybe we’d be partin’ without so much as a handshake come end of the contract… But uh, this is all somethin’ else…”  
Sniper rolled over and pressed a kiss to Spy’s cheek. 

“I like this plan a lot better.” 

Spy laughed beneath him and hugged him tight. 

“I’m very glad for it… But, I’m also very tired, mon amour. We have a long week ahead. Shall we retire?”

Sniper was up and scooping Spy in his arms before the lithe Frenchman could stir. Spy just hummed a giggle as he was hoisted up into Sniper’s lofted bed, where Sniper followed with lazily throwing the sheet over them and cranking off the light. They cuddled close as they settled in the small space, Spy cradled to Sniper’s chest as the marksman petted his neck. A minute later, Spy managed a faint “je ti’ame” before letting his eyes close, soft snores ensuing shortly after. Sniper sighed happily and got comfortable, letting the warmth of his lover, the New Mexico wildlife and the occasional creak of his van lull him to sleep.

\-------------------------------------------------

The succession of knocks on the clangy door went unnoticed. Not a single twitch was made from the snoring occupants of the van. After a pause, another series was delivered.

“Ey, Snipes, Engineer needs ya for somethin’. You even in there?”

Another minute of silence followed before there was a creaking click. 

“Oh, huh, didn’t know you left this thing unlocked.”

The door made a horrendous crash as it was haphazardly thrown open and a smirking Scout hoisted himself up into the camper. 

Sniper became aware of two things when his eyes snapped open. One was the body beside him that retched itself from his arms and shot straight up, which had caused him to jolt awake. Second was the boy staring right at them, wide eyes flickering between him and the man frozen beside him. Then the boy was gone, leaving only the fading sound of pelting footsteps behind.

Spy moved before Sniper could breathe, move, act. He was out of bed and throwing clothes on— an unbuttoned dress shirt, trousers with no underwear, shoes with no socks. His hasty but ever-eloquent hands fished the “Cloak and Dagger” watch from his pants pocket and hooked it on his wrist.

Sniper managed to sit up and swing his legs over the bed, but his head swam and his chest tightened. He was feeling dizzy as he watched the figure head towards the pinkish dawn desert.

“W-wait, Spy—”

The Frenchman only gave the barest glance back before shimmering away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m a virgin lesbian but I tried my best
> 
> Things I did instead of writing this ginormous gay sex scene:  
> Infodumped on Bloodborne and the Dark Souls series for days  
> Watched three playthroughs of Outlast 2 and one of RE7  
> Played tf2 religiously  
> Drew a bunch of my favorite monsters  
> Dream Daddy  
> Started taroting again and learned astrology  
> Was constantly exhausted for some reason
> 
> http://mlavier.tumblr.com/post/155168134646/redo-of-this  
> ^I saw this as I was writing this chapter and about pissed seriously


	3. Erratic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Losses and gains

He stood in the middle of the cramped space, hands fidgeting, eyes twitching, whole body pulsing and aching with an erratic heartbeat— he realized he’d about run out of things to do. Dishes done, bed made for the first time in the year, windows windexed, but there had to be something to do, he couldn’t focus, couldn’t think straight, hungry as hell but couldn’t gather his bearings to cook— _just breathe and calm down,_ that tiny little voice came back to him, but the poor thing was always met with a quake of panic that hissed _no, he could not calm down, that was the last thing he could do right now—_

Gah… Okay, think. He’d stashed off the clothes— jacket, undergarments, and gloves, thrown into a plastic bag and stuff into the compartment of a tractor behind the barn— lube too, and that was all he could think to hide. He grimaced thinking about that trip… he’d dashed out when the dawn’s shadows were still long, and sprinted there and back as fast as his legs could take him. He felt like he had a long and slim barrel tracking his head the whole time. 

Then he’d cleaned and scrubbed, stacked his piss jars to perfection, and even started sorting through old mags.

But it just wasn’t quite enough to keep his mind busy. He kept gravitating back to that frantic state, in the smallest pauses and hitches, and he’d end up pacing the floor, almost afraid he’d worry a hole into the carpet. 

Thing was… he’d never felt _fear_ like this before. He laughed in the face of a painful death in the Outback, and had grown accustomed to blowing up multiple times a day in New Mexico, but this wasn’t a matter that he could escape through skill or cunning or _anything._ He was trapped like a little bunny in a dead-end foxhole. He couldn’t venture out his van— what would he say to them? His team? What _could_ he say? And not like he could go driving off into the sunset, wouldn’t be a surprise if they were suddenly on lockdown. 

So he was just waiting for… For what? _Why hadn’t they come bustin’ down his door yet?_ Were they on the way? Just teasin’ him? Letting him gain a shred of hope ‘fore pulling the veil and laughing in his face? 

_Maybe Scout didn’t spill._

Ahaha, there it was, that _hope…_ That was a bloody laugh. Of course Scout spilled. It was probably the first thing he ran and did. Not that it was on the boy— anyone would’ve tipped off immediately. _He would’ve._ There was a damn spy in the base, and their teammate was… compromised.

On that note, why wasn’t his _teammates_ crashing his van?  
Too shocked? Too disappointed? Betrayed?

 _It just had to be **him.**_  
If it was just somebody on his team… Hell, even if it was _anyone else_ on the Blu team, just, not the one damn person who happened to be the sneakiest, most suspicious, most hated member possible…

He thunked his head on the counter.

_Him. Him him him._

Tch… His stomach started turning again. He gripped his clammy hands on the ledge, straining through a hard wave of nauseous anxiety that dredged up in his chest.  
_Terrible ending to a lovely night._ Guilt, that’s what he was feeling. It kept replaying in his buzzing head. Spy scrambling out of bed, jarred from a rare restful sleep in Sniper’s arms to tearing on his clothes, then fleeing like that. Caught, after all these months, after their indepth conversations on security and discretion, because of Sniper’s stupid little mistake. _The door. The damn door was the last thing on his mind last night._

Now they were both going to pay for it. Killing them? Maybe, but only if the administration was feeling impatient. “Being made an example of” sounded more likely. He kept thinking back to the Soldier/Demo conspiracy, and it sent shivers down his sweaty back. That was a mere weekend friendship. He didn’t want to imagine what they’d do for _this._

 _...It’s all done for._ He stumbled back from the counter, and slumped into the chair to cradle his pounding head. Amidst the fear for him and Spy, and the ache and dread that brought, there was a more hidden and selfish thing… but already, he was, very sorely, very _deeply,_ mourning the loss of their relationship. Even if the administration didn’t kill them on site and they decided to toy with them, they would, obviously, never get back what they had. And it was killing him, thinking how something so important blew away like dust, because of _his stupid mistake,_ and…  
_Godssake, stop thinking about it!_ His fingertips dug into his temples. _Just get a grip and stop thinking about it!_

He shook himself and rose his weary head to the golden light pouring through the blinds. It was creeping past early morning now, the sun perking prettily above the blazing horizon and starting to bake the dry ground. He realized how tired he was. The rude awakening was enough, but with this absolute shitstorm in his head and the constant fear and guilt and despair clenching in his chest… He was damn exhausted. And hungry, and sad, and angry, and alone, and too damn anxious to even crawl back into bed.

He… just wanted Spy there. He wanted that soft and deep voice to ease his fear, and a familiar hand down his back to calm his nerves, and maybe a kiss on the forehead to assure him that everything would be fine… Things he never knew he needed until the first time he got them. 

_He was going to miss it. He was already missing it. His heart ached and ached and ached._

_Fuck._ He pressed his palms to his eyes till he was seeing stars. He shouldn’t be acting like this, and he damn well knew it, but he was stuck with nothing to do but think and worry. He was dead meat. Spy was dead meat.The relationship that had come to mean the world to him was ashes. And worse of all—he’d told himself in the beginning, and he knew all along, that this was the only way it could ever turn out. 

A soft gleam in the descending sunlight caught his eye. His rifle… it hadn’t been cleaned in two days. Unprofessional. He jumped from his chair and took it like a lifeline, ready to immerse himself in her simple but beautiful design and steady his fingers.  
========  
His nose curled at his own smell, which was, as in most occasions, not a good sign. He groaned as his body protested the trudge up the basement stairs, and his mouth squirmed at the feeling of grit caked on his teeth. He smelled of sweat and alcohol and a hint of bile— which almost made a reappearance as he swallowed down the taste of morning-after brandy…  
Should he drag himself upstairs and brush his teeth? He rested his forehead on the cool cement wall as he pondered. _Fuck it,_ he decided after a moment. The rest of him looked and felt like shit anyway. The coffee would probably wash the grime out. 

The basement stairs went up into the connected garage, which led to the kitchen. The smell of something absolutely divine— and absolutely unhealthy— wafted to him and made a pleasant contrast to his own stench. Engineer must’ve worked his magic. Unfortunately he awoke much later than usual, and could only pray that some scraps remained to ward off his growing headache. On that note, he crept towards the kitchen.

He slowed his bare feet and perked his ears as he approached the open door, hushed murmuring catching his attention. He was surprised, his teammates would usually be out and about by now… What had he missed?

After a pause, he prodded his cloaking device and padded towards the smell and commotion, taking in the scene. Nearly every Red was hunched around the small table, leaning with intent, eyes wide and jaws clenched... More importantly, however, there was a fresh pot brewed and, by the grace of God, a serving of breakfast left. Spy silently stalked to the counter, to pick up on the morning gossip and ingest his daily dose of caffeine. 

“Lad… Yah really shore about this? That’s a very serious accusation,” he heard first from Demo.  
“Agreed. Scout, I vould strongly advise against joking about such matters.”

Spy was all ears as he grabbed his mug from the rack— the conversation was so tense that no one noticed him, thankfully. He poured a steaming cup and decided to forego the sugar in the creaky cabinet.

“No guys, I, I swear… I ain’t pullin’ your leg, I ain’t jokin’ about nothin’, that’s exactly what I saw.”

Spy sat his brimming mug down and slipped a plate off the stack. Only Medic tilted his head to notice the mysteriously floating saucer, and quickly turned his attention back to Scout. As did Spy, regretting that he hadn’t come a few minutes earlier and heard what the boy “saw.”

 

“But you’ve been sittin’ here all mornin’, why’dya just now speak up?”

“W-well, I just, I didn’t…”

“Are you sure it wasn’t another man?” Heavy leaned forward and caused the table to lurch. “It is even possible that he brought in an outsider for the night, although it is forbidden…”

“No, I’m _telling you—_ blue mask an’ everything. Last I knew, there weren’t exactly a buncha men runnin’ around sleepin’ in those. And didn’t you say you saw his van out there when you went to bed? No way he picked up a guy in that time.”

A thick silence settled for a long moment. Even the quiet scraping from the pan on the stove halted. Flickering glances were exchanged and thumbs were twiddled…

 

“ **Traitor in the base!** ” Soldier jumped and banged his fists on the table, jarring everyone. “There’s a scumbag backstabber loose in our base, and even worse, a damned traitor right under our nose! Grab your pitchforks, boys!”

“Hey now, y’all hold on a minute—”

“Scout, lad, you should’ve told us earlier, who knows what that damn crook did to ‘im…”

“Sound the alarm! Call the Administrator! Get the ties and camera, we’ll show those Blu bastards that we will not be compromised by a prancin’ Frog that sleeps in other people’s beds! Like a weirdo!”

 

“ _Vait!_ All of you vait!”  
Medic stood amidst the commotion arms spread, and the voices hitched. Medic breathed a sigh of relief and regarded his team calmly.

“Let’s be rational about this before we make a big mistake, ja? Scout, remind us, when did you see this? And what happened?”

 

Scout was clearly flustered among all the noise and attention, and tugged at the collar of his Red Sox shirt as he thought.

“Okay, alright… Around 6am, when Engie asked me to get Sniper for somethin’. He didn’t specify for what, just wanted me to bring ‘im. Right?”

Scout looked to the Texan, who had looked troubled and uncomfortable the whole while. He nodded reluctantly.

“So I went a-knockin’ on his door. No answer. After a few times, I tried the handle— surprisingly, it was unlocked. I know the guy’s a dawn-cracker, so I figured he was just ignorin’ me, and I busted in…”

Scout blew out a big exhale and avoided the wide-eyed stare of his colleagues. 

“Then I saw the Blu Spy sitting there, er, _naked,_ and Sniper behind him… I ran out as fast as I could, and tried to, I dunno, put the pieces together…”

 

The following moment of solemn silence was abruptly absolutely shattered.

“I believe you may need your eyes checked, mon ami. Because that was _me_ you saw.”

Every head snapped towards the farside of the kitchen, where a tired, rough, annoyed gentleman still in his silk pajamas was sipping his coffee and meeting his team’s shocked expression with a cool glare.

“W-What?!” Scout squeaked, jaw looking like it might fall off. As did most of his colleagues’.

“Or perhaps you’re colorblind, but then I would seriously question your placement and success in this operation…”

“Spy… Are you saying that it was _you_ in Herr Sniper’s bed, rather than the Blu Spy, and Scout was mistaken and confused this morning?” Medic questioned him quietly.

“Precisely.”

“N-No, what, I know I saw him! I-I—”

“You were clearly mistaken.”

Spy reached to pluck a cigarette, then realized he’d left his case downstairs. His mouth twitched as his resolve flickered.  
“It must’ve been a trick of the light. The dawning sun can cast strange hues,” Spy shrugged. His eyes darted across his teammates’ gazes, hoping to challenge them into unquestioning silence. 

It seemed to work. _They took it._ After a few moments, Spy let out a breath of relief and stepped to excuse himself—  
“Hey now… This don’t make much sense.” Engineer stood from his chair, and Spy’s mug shook in his hand.

“Why are _you_ openly admitting that?” While his tone was mostly genuine, a Texan finger pointed accusingly at the spy. “You aren’t exactly the type for honesty or havin’ a conscience, no offense. Why wouldn’t you let Blu take the blame for, uh, this?”

Spy paused, teeth biting at the inside of his lip, then he lazily shrugged again and took a long sip of coffee.

“I suppose I’d rather expose myself in a secret that I hardly care to deny anyway, than allow you to throw the base into an emergency lockdown on this stifling day, or to go hanging Monsieur Sniper under false claims. And after a humiliating loss, do you really think it would be smart to start throwing childish accusations at Blu?”

Engineer’s grimace twitched, but he nodded and tilted back against the fridge in submission, arms crossed. Spy decided to take the opportunity before anymore questions were asked.

“Well gentlemen, I’d like to ask that you not bring this subject up again. Gossip as you will, but my and Monsieur Sniper’s relationship is no concern of yours. Now, excuse me.”

He confidently sat his coffee down and strode to the livingroom, where he hit his cloak the moment he was out of sight. _Mon Dieu mon Dieu…_ He immediately heard a clamor of muttering and loud whispers in his leave, but it was faint over the drumming of his own heartbeat. He sat against the wall for a good minute, gears turning like pinwheels, only years of heavy self-discipline keeping panic at bay. _Ce qui a été fait a été fait._ After getting the air back in his lungs, his jaw tightened with determination, and he cracked his stiff bones and wiped the sweat from his brow. After showering and dressing, he decided, he’d head to the mobile comm center outside. He had some important calls to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! This is a short chapter, 'cause I really wanted to post before I move into college tomorrow. There was meant to be another part, but that should be long enough to be a chapter itself. Hopefully it won't be long before I can get adjusted to college and start writing again. Adieu!


	4. Alliance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope is found, plans are made

A gentle tap made his twisted shoulder twitch. In his inky dream, he smelled the bitter smoke and musky cologne waft over him, and a warm feeling seeped through his sore and heavy chest. But it didn’t otherwise rouse him, and he went on snoring. 

“Hm… That position can’t be good for your back, Monsieur. You must keep a good posture for spies like us, yes?”

There was another nudge at his shoulder, rolling him over a bit. Sniper frowned and wiggled, expecting to snuggle deeper into soft sheets and a warm body— instead he scraped against the rough carpet and clenched at empty space. His nose twitched and something grumbled from his throat, but the disturbance was forgotten again as he curled up to wade back into sleep.

“Mon Dieu, are you really this hard to wake? I thought you Bushmen were high-sprung. How were you not eaten by the dropbears?”

Finally, the voice dragged the sniper into some level of awareness, eyes shuddering under his lids and mouth frowning. After a deep inhale, his fingers flexing and legs unfurling, he rolled over and lazily reached out— and managed to grab a lanky ankle and pull his face to the crook of a leather shoe, where he settled again. 

“Mm... dun’ leave yet.”

“...Combien déconcertant. Monsieur, _please.”_

The shoe’s twin prodded at his ribs, and despite his efforts to huddle and ignore it, the nuisance and the sharp crick in his neck persisted. After a few seconds, he grimaced and his eyes finally cracked open.

The shoe relented and its partner sharply pulled away, leaving Sniper startled and blinking in confusion.

“Enfin. Get up, Monsieur. We have much to discuss.”

“...Spy?” A deep groan worked its way through the marksman as he slowly untangled his limbs, joints popping and head swimming like a drunken fish. Bloody hell… he was on the floor? Of his van? All he could see was the yellow hue of the blinds. He coughed a bit as he pushed up and laid back against the cabinets, drowsily following the glowing iris of a cigarette through the darkness… Damn, did they pass out last night? But it was the evening? The hell happened? Nothing was coming through. Spy…

“Oui. But probably not the one you’d hope for.”

A light was ticked on, and a sharp pain pulsed through the Aussie’s skull. Christ, he rubbed at his listless face, trying to shake off the sleep fog and register just how much he’d had to drink last night. Didn’ exactly feel like a hangover though...

Then Spy’s words processed and came through. And his eyes snapped open with clarity.

“You? The _hell_ you doin’ here?” He glared up at the red-suited arsehole, who stood above him lazily dragging on his durry with his trademark expression of “unimpressed annoyance.” The sniper’s first instinct was to _hit ‘im._

“What’s goin’ on?” the Aussie pressed again, some mix of fear and anger sparking his nerves as he scrambled to gather his bearings, which seemed to be as scattered as a bloody headshot. 

“Much,” Spy leaned against the table and answered, “But I think you’d like to orient yourself. I can only wonder how you passed out on your dirty floor… Don’t _snarl_ at me Monsieur, I am here on good terms.”

After a second of defiance, Sniper let go of his glare with a sigh, which turned into a stifled yawn. Alright, sure, fine. Last he could remember, he was tryin’ to pick crumbs off the floor, then—

 _Panic._ It hit him like a truck. His body went frigid. _Shit._ Shit shit shit— the whole thing… Oh god, how long had he been asleep? What happened, what was, _why_ was—

The hand on his shoulder jolted him. He stirred and looked up with wide eyes, not realizing how hard he was breathing.

“Non non, don’t get upset. Not yet. Just, here, stand up.”

Sniper’s throat was tight as he tried to swallow, staring at Spy’s extended hand. He trailed up to his calm, stoic face… and oh, god, as much as he really, _really_ hated to admit it, those steady blue-greys were centering him, soothing away his panic, making his heart pick up and slow down all at once—

He shook himself hard and grabbed at the countertop, ignoring Spy’s snicker and eyeroll to pull himself up standing. Many flinch-inducing pops ensued— damn, he really did a number on his back laying like that. He rubbed at his neck as he surveyed his unnaturally clean living space; he remembered being tired n’ all but couldn’t believe he fell asleep like that… 

“...Time is it?”

“Just after ten.”

 _Christ._ Nine bloody hours. Incredibly stupid of him.  
He ruffled through his messy, sweat-slicked hair as he tried to force mushy pieces of logic together. _Well, he didn’t wake up tied up to a chair or naked in a jail cell, so there’s that… Obviously they hadn’t come for him yet. But Spy was here, being all Spook-like, which couldn’t be good._

“So… What’s the deal?” He attempted to square up his shoulders over crossed arms as he regarded the loitering Spy, trying to ignore that agitated feeling in his chest. The facade let him focus on anything but the trembling panic in his veins. 

 

Spy just sniffed and moved to sit at the table, procuring a cigarette from his silver case.

“Smoke?” he pointed it Sniper’s way.

“...Hell yeah.” Sniper gingerly took the fag and accepted a light, nerves immediately easing a hitch with the first puff. Alright… maybe Spy wasn’t intent on being an arsehole for once, and he could relax a little. He was safe for the moment, and he knew trying to leap on the backstabber for info wouldn’t do a lick of good. It was a time game. Spy liked those, when he had the upper hand. Sniper might meet his maker the moment he stepped out of the van and maybe this was all a setup, but what choice did he have right now? Not a damn one. 

His nose wrinkled as he coughed a bit. He’d forgotten how strong the spies’ stuff was, only lord knew how they chainsmoked the stuff for hours on end. Blu didn’t like seeing him smoke though, cause it always meant he was stressed or pissed. 

“So, you are okay to begin?” Spy blew smoke his way. Although the cig helped a little, Sniper still felt like he’d swallowed ten pounds of lead.

“Let’s get on with it mate.”

“Bien. Then, first— I know everything.” 

_Of bloody course he did._ Sniper blinked as his chest dropped to his stomach. His lip twitched a bit, then the blinds suddenly caught his interest, where he thought he could see a stormy night brewing between the spaces.

“Specify,” he muttered.

Spy tsked and flicked his ashes. “I know you and my Blu counterpart have been involved in a sexual affair of sorts, and you were caught in the aftermath by our Scout this morning. And I believe that is all that I _need_ to know.”

His gut was really achin’. Did he have any food stashed anywhere? He could probably find something. His thumb tucked itself into his empty pocket.

“However,” Spy continued in his silence, “if it puts your mind at ease, I am the _only one_ that knows, for the moment at least.”

Now, _that—_ that… teeth biting at his inner lip, he carefully examined the spy’s cool, featureless gaze that was either blank honesty or grade-A deceit…  
The barrage of questions on Sniper’s lips whimpered out with resolve. No, the last thing he needed was getting caught in Spy’s damn web. He needed to think for himself. 

“...And Scout,” he carefully affirmed after a long pause.

“Non, not even the boy,” Spy hummed _with the barest damn smirk._ Sniper’s jaw tightened.

“He’s dead.”

Spy scoffed.  
“ _Non,_ I didn’t kill him.”

“...Oh.”

“But, Monsieur, that is not to say you are out of the water just yet. In fact, I believe it has just been set to boil.”

 _The hell does that mean?_ Sniper chewed on a stunted fingernail, watching Spy’s smoketrails curl and gather at the ceiling.  
‘sides that… _What happened to Scout? Drugged? Threatened? Maybe it was actually Spy disguised as Scout, which didn’t make much sense but…_

They sat in silence for some minutes, it felt like hours, in which Spy seemed perfectly content on idly observing his living space as he waited on Sniper chewing his tongue. So many, too many possibilities ran through his head, _he just didn’t know enough,_ and trying to sort it all out only left a bigger mess. 

 

Finally, he sighed and deliberately let his guard slip away in defeat.

“Okay Spy. Fine. I don’t know. Tell me everythin’.”

“Mon plaisir.” Spy swung one leg over the other, skinny ankle dangling daintily off his knee, and let his last drag slowly drain out of his nostrils. It was going to be a long ride.

 

“I got up late this morning, much later than usual, and snuck into the kitchen for coffee. I was surprised to see that our team was still huddled around the table engaged in hushed gossip, despite the time. Naturally I listened in, undetected, and found that I’d wandered in just after Scout made a big announcement about his ‘discovery.’ Really, the timing was uncannily impeccable…”

Sniper’s mental exhaustion fell on him like a house of bricks. Slumping against the counter, he suddenly felt his age more than he had in a long time. _Had he really gotten caught in bed with an enemy teammate… Was he really in a relationship with his damn once-nemesis?_ How’d the hell did that come about? It all seemed distant, trivial, and very, very tiresome now. 

Spy continued.  
“A short recount was given, then Soldier was roused and ready to start a witchhunt. And if I hadn’t intervened, _donc vous sais,_ they likely would’ve had commenced having you hogtied and trashing the base looking for our intruder— but, rather, I decloaked at the right time…”

 _Intervened?_ Sniper was caught off seeing Spy suddenly falter, the gentleman’s lips thinning and his eyes wandering off with a twitch. It made his chest clench with anticipation. A nervous spy was never a good sign.

“Yeah? An’?” Sniper pressed as he thought he might clock the Spy for being a purposefully suspenseful bastard. 

“And… I convinced our team that it was _me_ occupying your bed, rather than the enemy Spy.”

 

Sniper’s expression was ironically close to the one their teammates had held that morning. Or maybe that was to be expected. There was a grace period of blank stillness, then his brows and mouth made subtle but interesting twists and dives, then his throat wavered with clenches and swallows, until he finally managed to spit out, 

“You _whot?”_

Spy met Sniper’s bewilderment with a tilt of his head, forged guise of wile and know-all falling to genuine wilted annoyance and frustration. Which only jarred Sniper more. 

“You heard what I said.”

“I… I ain’t playin’ games, mate. Out with it, the truth, no pissin’ around!”

 _“There are no games here,_ Monsieur. I am telling the truth, and if we are to get anywhere tonight, I need you to trust me.”

Sniper searched frantically for any, _any_ sign that he was being toyed with, any signal for him to roll his eyes and demand the real answer while Spy had his snobby little laugh then got down to business. But there was none of that. Only genuine weariness, sincerity, and a hint of pleading. 

Words rose and fell like crashing waves on Sniper’s fumbling lips before he managed to mutter,  
“I… I don’t understand?”

Spy’s brows rose as he grounded his cigarette butt in the ashtray. His jaw was growing tighter by the minute, forming a thin and strained expression that put an unwelcomed feeling in Sniper’s stomach.

“What is there to understand, mon ami?”

“I, just… Why? Are you being serious? _Why?”_

“Yes, I am serious. And you are asking why I would risk myself to take the fall for you and Monsieur Blu?”

The lowness and detachment of Spy’s voice was fingering down Sniper’s back in the most unpleasant way. He didn’t like it a bit. He took a few deep breaths and released a long, shaky exhale as he tried to think over the thumpin’ in his ears. He became vaguely aware of a newly lit fag offered in his direction, and he took it with desperation. He wasn’t sure though that a nicotine rush would let him break past the blockade of disbelief that was drowning all of his thoughts. _Spy wasn’t kidding…_

He swallowed down the bitter smoke, that at least made his nerves ache a bit less. He glanced up at the figure of the Red spy, looking tense as a board and staring through Sniper to the window, quietly patient as he fiddled with his glove cuff. 

“Yeah… Why’d you do it?” He shook himself and answered.

“Hm… I don’t suppose you’d accept the suggestion that it was out of the kindness of my heart?”

A wheezy chuckle actually managed to squeeze out of Sniper, startling the man himself.

“Not a snowball’s chance in Queensland, mate.”

“Well, then, I supposed you’ll be left to ponder it.” He continued past Sniper’s sputtered protest. “This isn’t the time to mull over emotions and sentiments. Just trust that it was in good intentions. As stated earlier, the sooner you trust me and accept the situation, the sooner we can discuss actual solutions.”

 

Sniper’s eyes narrowed as he considered his options, realizing he was being backed into a metaphorical corner here with no answers. But Spy didn’t have an ounce of menace in him, just that cool detachment and subtle tiredness.

“Not sure that I can do that.”

“But do you have a choice?” Spy hummed at his cigarette.

“Nah, not really,” Sniper sighed quietly. “Yeah, I know— I’m bound and at your mercy. Go on and revel in it, yah snake.”

Spy frowned.  
“Who said I was revelling? This is a very dangerous situation. Did I not just detail how I saved _your_ ass and threw myself into this mess, Monsieur Sniper?”

“Yeah, you did. But you won’t tell me why, and I don’t trust it one bit. Am I supposed to owe you somethin’? Is that what this is? Blackmail?”

Spy drew a deep breath and rubbed at his temple. He flipped his cigarette case open, glanced at the contents, then tossed the empty cartridge onto the table, mouth twitching.  
“I told you, it was with good intentions. And you have little choice but to believe me. Believe it or not, Sniper, not only _did_ I save your ass, but I’m still actively working to assure its future existence. I am trying my best to help you with this situation, as much as that risks myself... If it puts you at ease, I did this with my Blu counterpart in mind. You’re more of an unfortunate tagalong.”

That just put a great big cement slab smack dab in Sniper’s thoughts. He stared blankly, and after a moment Spy took the opportunity of his flabbergasted silence to give him a glare of finality. 

“How about this? He understands. You don’t need to. You two can discuss it later. Can we move on? The night is limited.” 

_He’s right._ As disgustingly hard as it was to swallow, he didn’t really have a choice but to believe the spy, for now. If it was some ruse, he was hiding it damn well, and if he was telling the truth, he was his only saving grace in this mess.

Slowly he nodded, and Spy’s face fell into relief. Sniper choked down another smoky inhale, then quietly moved to take up the chair across from Spy, folding his hands on the table. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, or thinking really, it was all whirling too fast around his poor head, but he could sort it all out later… He flicked his ashes and looked to the window. It was definitely storming, starting to drizzle now, and a low wind carved through the silence. 

“So you convince our team that it was you instead’ve Blu that Scout saw… Great. Now what?”

Spy clasped his hands under his chin and join Sniper’s gaze out the window. 

“I wish that were the end of it, mon ami, truly. It wouldn’t be ideal, but an inconvenience at best. However… how aware are you of the monitoring that goes on around here? How they keep track of us?”

Sniper’s jaw clenched as he focused back on Spy, how his eyes flickered and darted over his black-clad gloves with nothing but sincerity. Alright, he was being too damn defensive when he couldn’t afford to be. Maybe he just wasn’t used to the idea.

“I’m pretty aware… I know they’ve got the house tapped like a nail. It’s about guaranteed that they caught Scout’s outburst. I’d been waiting all day for them to bust down my door, honestly.”

Spy nodded grimly.

“If I hadn’t intervened, that may have been the case. I imagine I’ve bought you a few days time— but that only. I’m sure you realize the severity of this crime in the administration’s eyes, Sniper.”

Sniper nodded, fists coming up to clench at his mouth. Spy continued.  
“And this won’t be overlooked. It’s quite possible that they’ve had suspicions, and this will finally be the incentive to make the charge. They will look into every video feed, every report, run all possible statistics on the scoreboards… And they will inevitably find the flaws.”

“...You think it was that noticeable?”

Spy’s scoff dropped his heart a few inches. The Frenchman glanced at his watch with a deepening grimace.  
“I will say, I didn’t draw the final conclusion until Scout’s reveal, but it fit like the last puzzle piece. Certain things… The change in your behaviour was definitely tangible, and your decline in scores was noteworthy, although it has become less surprising by now.”

The lump in Sniper’s throat squelched any defensive statement he instinctively tried to throw out. It sat like a lead bullet sliding lower and lower, and it felt like the whole world was being dragged down with it. He had to clench his hands tighter to keep the shake out. 

“I only wish I had known sooner, then I would’ve told you what an _idiot_ you were being,” Spy muttered. He picked up his cigarette case and tucked it back into his breastpocket, eyes avoiding the paling sniper. 

_It was all his fault, wasn’t it? They were careful, but he got too comfortable, forgot the consequences, let things slides that he shouldn’t’ve…_

He shook himself, trying to chase away the bud of dread taking root in his chest, spreading. He didn’t need a repeat of that morning, not in hell. He was waiting for Spy to continue, , but the gentlemen was apparently content with watching the drizzle splatter on the window while he checked his watch about every half-minute. Sniper stared at him and kept building up the will to say something, but it’d sputter out as increasingly-frequent bad thoughts jabbed in his head.  
_Is he waitin’ for something? Was this just stalling? It was, wasn’t it? Oh god, they’re—_

Sniper about jumped out of his seat with the rap of sharp knocks on the door, and his fingers were fumbling for the kukri handle underseat before he even jerked around. He banged his knees hard on the table trying to stand—

“Mon dieu, calm down,” Spy hissed at him, then said in a calling voice, “Quel est le mot de passe?” 

Sniper froze mid knee-nursing as an identical voice sighed back,  
“Laisse moi entrer, _connard.”_

“D'accord, entrez. C'est... débloqué.”

The door clanked then creaked open, and Sniper’s mind whiplashed seeing Red Spy step inside— then the muted red shimmered into a familiar color as the Blu spy closed the door behind him. He was speckled with rain, enough that the cuffs of his pants were dusted with mud, and his mask clung to his face in unusual ways. Blu toed off his shoes then shouldered off his jacket, to be neatly folded and placed on the counter, as Red regarded him.

“Vous êtes très tardif.”

Blu tsked while he peeled off his gloves.  
“J'attendais de voir s'il pleut. Et votre gardien de sécurité était réveillé pour une fois. Mais je suis ici.”

He stacked his gloves beside the suit jacket, like he always did, took a long puff of his struggling cigarette, then finally looked to Sniper. The marksman snapped away like he’d been burned. His hands ran over his face, clammy, jittering, as his blood started rushing tenfold.  
_He didn’t think… Didn’t know… Good lord, he wasn’t ready for this. At all._

A moment later gentle hands found their way to his hunched back, thumbs pressed to the sides of his spine which often ached with scar tissue, then rubbed tenderly up to his shoulders, where they splayed to rub circles between his shoulderblades. And Sniper melted like butter under the touch, a shuddering breath of tension leaving him; but he still stayed hunched, fingertips working at his temples.

“Mon amour?” A silky, soothing voice inquired, making the marksman’s neck tingle. No one acknowledge Red’s snickering as Blu trailed a hand down to squeeze his arm.

“Are you okay? You are shaking.”

Sniper couldn’t seem to get anything past the spit clogging his throat, and he muttered something incomprehensible into his palms. Blu hummed and stole the drooping cigarette out of his hand to smolder in the ashtray. Red stared at it for a long moment, then discreetly swiped it for his own lips.

The Blu spy slipped through to the chair beside Sniper and faced him, soft concern in his face as he swept back stray strands of the sniper’s hair. After a moment, Sniper finally lowered his hands into his lap, eyes closing as he focused on steadying his breathing. Spy found his hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze, receiving one back. 

“Oui, just breathe. Is it an episode? Just tell me what you need.”

Red’s tongue darted between his lips like he wanted to say something, but he remained quiet, gazing between the couple with something akin to fascination. Blu casted him a stray glance, eyes narrowing defensively, before Sniper finally gathered himself enough to speak tangibly.

“‘m... ‘m fine, luv... “ Sniper breathed out a long exhale and sat up, still looking pale but collected.

“Jus’... Shock n’ everythin’, I guess. Too many things at once, an’...”  
He swallowed determinedly.  
“Yeah, I’m fine, I’ll be fine. Ain’t a full-out one. Yoar here, I’ll be fine.”

Blu gave a breath of relief and sat back in his chair to give Sniper room, although his hand remained with its partner giving no intention of letting go. He hardened again though when Red cleared his throat then muttered,

“C'est nouveau…’un épisode.’”

Blu’s nose curled as he quipped back, “Et aucune de vos affaires.” But, after a moment of hesitation, he quietly added “Plus tard peut-êtree.”

“Can you two stop with that? Gives me the willies.” Sniper suddenly stood from his chair, steadied himself, and headed to the sink, opening a cabinet. “I need water. Anyone else want water?”

After Sniper returned chugging the glass, the group finally settled the best they could be, Red addressed them formally. 

“Now that Monsieur Blu has arrived, we can begin the most important discussion… Where do we go from here?”

“I still believe that we should begin planning out our escape immediately,” Blu spoke up, hands folded on the table. “We have no notion of when they will come— it could be weeks, it could be tomorrow. We must begin mapping something out, tonight even.”

“I agree. And you are positive that you still have access to the administrative channels?”

Blu nodded.  
“I tested them out this afternoon. Not a hitch, and I know what I’m listening for. It will be largely up to fate, but it is at least something.”

“...Channels?” Sniper asked tentatively, not sure if it was something he should be involved in or not. Blu nodded to him assuringly. 

“I have access to the radio channels that the administration uses. There’s a chance that if they do come for us, I will be able to catch it on the radio and give ourselves a good headstart. It’s not a spectacular chance, but it’s existent.”

Sniper nodded in understanding, then paused, then frowned and asked,  
“Headstart? Headstart to where?”

“That is the question of the night,” Red answered. He regarded Blu. “Have you had anymore thoughts on the matter?”

Sniper could see the barest tug of Blu’s teeth at his lips. He fidgeted with his hands a bit, obviously having an answer but hesitant to voice it, and Sniper tried to take a swig from the empty glass.

“I think… It would be best to travel in Sniper’s van, towards northwest, to take a flight in one of the larger coastal cities. The van is much less conspicuous, and it’d be much easier to remain unidentified in a busy airport. But we shouldn’t take a direct path, something more random, although that depends... Je ne sais pas, obviously many things would need to be worked out, but that is my basic idea.”

Red looked thoughtful as he discarded the dead cigarette and clasped his hands.

“Sounds like a start. Sniper, what do you think?”

“Sorry… Where we flyin’ to? Did you two already discuss all this or somethin’? My head’s spinnin’ tryna keep up.”

“We had a brief conversation about the circumstances, not much more— but I’m sorry you’re confused. Monsieur Blu, I’m assuming you wanted to go out of the country?”

Blu’s teeth were fully at his lip now. His fists clenched and unclenched on the table, and Sniper was starting to feel nervous all over again as implications flashed through his head…

“Again, that depends. Not everyone is necessarily in agreeance here.”

Blu turned to the Aussie, who tensed at the look in his eyes. The sniper readied himself for a blow of some sort—

“Sniper? What do you want to do? I’m afraid staying in the States would be nearly impossible, as they have bases in about every corner of this country. But… we do not necessarily have to go together. If you would prefer we part ways, and leave this all behind, that is fine… I understand. The choice is yours.”

Sniper just stared at him for a long moment, that chunk of dread squeezing back into his throat. Spy held his look for a second, then dropped his gaze to his hands, almost guiltily. Sniper’s heart constricted.

“So… runnin’s the only option? No espionage or assinatin’ or whatever you spies do?”

Red shook his head grimly.  
“Not with something on this scale. Too many factors to consider for too little time. Also, the information is already out there. This isn’t the justice system— evidence does not have to be sustainable. No, your only option is to run, and run far.”

Sniper sat with his thumbs tucked under his chin for a good minute, mulling and mulling as Blu increasingly fidgeted. Suddenly, he stood and retreated to the sink again, refilling his glass and taking a long sip. He leaned against the counter, both spies watching him intently, studied his glass for a few seconds, then finally answered,

“Of bloody ‘course I’m goin’ with you, yah drongo. Think I’m gonna go off to some foreign country as a fugitive by myself? Snowball’s chance. And you ain’t either. Yoar stuck with me, luv. Where you thinkin’?”

 

Blu twisted through a flurry of conflicting expressions and faltering words, before settling into that big, laughing smile with a hint of shyness that set the sniper’s heart aflame. Sniper found himself mirroring it as he was reminded of how Spy’s eyes crinkled when he smiled like that. 

“Well, I _suppose_ I will tolerate you,” the subtly flushed spy smirked, “And it will depend on what’s available, but I have a preference for Europe. I know for fact that a majority of the European countries have prohibited Mann Co’s presence in their nation, which the company has little interest in anyway, meaning little to no resources for them in that continent. Also, I have many ties in the region that will gladly benefit our safety and discretion.”

“Sounds good. Great actually,” Sniper murmured as he rubbed his stubbling chin in thought.

“I agree,” Red spoke up. “Mann Co has no stakes in anything north of Africa, really. I’d suggest lying low in a highly populated area, for a while at least— but all of that is the choice of you two. The more pressing concern at the moment is getting out of the country in the first place.”

Blu nodded, expression fading into something more pensive.  
“Driving in this desert _hellscape_ has its advantages and disadvantages. There’s little to no chance that we’d be identified by locals, and in the right direction we can lose them quickly in this immense land. However, in certain areas we can be seen for miles out in the open. Cities have virtually the opposite aspects.”  
Blu flipped his cigarette case out of his pocket and sparked his silver lighter. After Red stared at him like a starving dog as he took his first lungful, the blue-clad gentleman rolled his eyes and offered his counterpart another fag, which the Red spy snatched with some bare expression of gratitude.

“As I said earlier, we also can’t take too direct of a path,” Blu continued. “If they’re actively chasing us, unpredictability will be our only saving grace. However, we also don’t want to find ourselves crawling through Death Valley for days.” Blu frowned in thinking and rubbed at the edge of his mask. “ _Another_ issue is, we cannot just go scouring through the database for the information we need. I do not know how hard it would be to find detailed maps of the region, and they’d have to be smuggled in and always kept hidden. I suppose all of that can be conducted in here, but…”

“You mean roadmaps? Mate, I’ve got maps of the whole western United States.”

The spies watched in surprise as Sniper crouched to one of the undercabinets and pulled out a shoebox, which he heaved onto the table with a hefty thud. He revealed a boxful of folded up maps, directories, and pamphlets.

“You dun’ think I go campin’ without knowin’ where I’m going, do yah? It’s mostly for the southwest states ‘round here, but I’ve got quite a few for the region and even the whole country. Directories for some of the major towns too.”

Red peered into the box, brows raised in a rare expression of impression.  
“My my… This will serve us very well, Sniper. Extremely, it’s exactly what we need. I think, then, perhaps you and I can spend the week looking over the maps and plotting out possible routes. Oui?”

“You an’ me?”

Red grimaced around his cigarette. “Who else?” Then his expression darkened considerably.  
“I assumed that the premise that you and Monsieur Blu would not be visiting during this process was given. If not, let me clarify now: _you and Spy are not to interact by any means in the following days._ Unless this fiasco continues past the break, then strictly killing as usual and nothing more. No exceptions. They will be watching like hawks, and I don’t believe a moment of longing is worth the total sabotage of everything we are trying to save here. Do you two understand me?”

Sniper blinked, having sudden flashbacks of his ol’ dad lecturing him about his nonflexible curfew. He nodded pointedly, as put off as he was by the nearly parental tone. He didn’t notice Blu remaining silent and tight-lipped.

“Right. ‘Course… Me an’ you then. And I’m assuming you’ll be relaying information to eachother then an’ that’s all secure?”

Red relaxed with his agreeance.  
“Yes, whatever needs to be communicated between you two will be done through me.”  
Red paused for a bit, fingers steepled and tapping, then continued with,  
“Well, then, gentlemen… To put it all together, Sniper and I will work to explore the best paths to the coast. Blu Spy will be listening to the radio channels to catch alerts. We likely only have a few days to spare, and we must keep on the very tips of our toes. We cannot afford to falter, if we are to succeed.”

A resolving quiet settled over the group with the plan stated in full. Many details still needed filled in, but they had an idea of where they were going and what they were reaching for. There was hope in this foxhole yet.

But something was bugging Sniper, something still left undiscussed. It bloomed in the meditative silence, into a dark cloud over his head, and he found the words to speak up a minute later.

“So… What if Blu doesn’t catch the alert an’ they come bustin’ down the door?”

Sniper noticed Blu squirm in the corner of his eye, shifting in his seat and eyes cast downward as his cigarette bobbed in his mouth. Red replied before Sniper could react.

“Let’s be realistic. Best case scenario, you manage to get through them, in whatever way, and you follow through the escape by the skin of your teeth. Worst case, they manage to immediately incapacitate you, everything goes out the window, and, frankly, you’re fucked. But… we should keep on the bright side, non?”

 

Sniper’s warm hand on his stiff shoulder startled Blu from his wistful stupor. He blinked up at Sniper’s worried frown, then offered a small smile as he reached for the marksman’s free hand. Sniper let them interlace and continued with his concerns.

“What do you think it is? The punishment?”

Blu spoke now, voice low and heavy in a way that tugged the Aussie’s heart.  
“Death is a near certainty, for one or both of us. But I highly doubt they would simply shoot us in our beds. We must be made an example of, non? Such brazen, careless treason deserves an equal punishment. Something bold, absurd, and always theatrical.” Blu chuckled darkly and exhaled his smoke slowly, while gripping Sniper’s hand tighter. “You are aware of the insane antics of this company, non? They forged an extensive, bloody war to separate two mere friends. Our fate? I don’t even want to think upon it.”

Silence fell again, of a heavier tone. Blu took to rubbing over the marksman’s rough knuckles and Red gazed back to the drizzled window as grim thoughts enclasped them all.

But then Red finally stood, straightening out his jacket and checking the time.  
“Well, then, I suppose that we have all that we need to continue. Sniper, I will come by tomorrow evening after dinner and help to begin sorting the maps. Monsieur Blu, I will touch base with you later in the evening. Everything clear gentlemen?”

After a pause, the pair nodded slowly, and the Red spy dipped his head.  
“Good. Then I will leave you two to your… goodbyes. Spy, I will occupy the guard for the next hour. I would strongly suggest that you leave as soon as possible, but… I also suggest that you make this count. Adieu, gentlemen.”

With that, Red quietly headed for the creaky door, shimmering away and leaving the lovers alone with its closing clunk.

 

Neither said a word for a long time. Spy smoked and rubbed Sniper’s hand, over his knuckles and down his thumb and against that weird bone that stuck out of his wrist, and Sniper watched the drizzle as he let his hand be perused. It wasn’t until Spy’s cigarette was a stub and he stamped it in the ashtray that the spy broke the silence.

“I’m sorry.”

Sniper blinked out of his thoughts.  
“For what?”

Spy sighed and finally released his hand, clasping his own again. Sniper took the chance to take the chair across from him.  
“For being careless. For letting ourselves get too comfortable. And, especially, for leaving like that this morning. I immediately regretted it the moment I stepped out of your base, but…”  
The spy swallowed and focused his gaze back on the table again. Sniper was tempted to take his hands, but held out for the moment.  
“I panicked. And yes, in retrospect, it was likely the best choice, but still, I cannot believe I just abandoned you. Imagine if Scout had told your team immediately? What they would do?”

Spy shook his head, and the guilt in his face was killing Sniper. He frowned and leaned forward to clasp the spy’s bare arm, successful in getting his bright, blue-grey eyes to look up at him.  
“Mate, I don’t blame you. For any of that. I should’ve made sure the door was locked. And, let’s be honest, if I was you, I’d probably’ve run like that too. Smart thing to do. It could’ve easily turned into a witchhunt if things had went differently.”

Spy grimaced deeper, obviously not accepting Sniper’s reassurance. Instead he murmured,  
“How bad was it after I left? Your anxiety?”

That jarred the sniper a bit. He pulled back and sucked on his lip, rolling degrees of honesty in his head and trying to keep ghosting feelings of the hellish morning away.  
“Yeah, I had a bit of an episode. Wasn’t that major, but that’s how I ended up passed out on the floor, I’m guessin’. Look, Spy— I don’t care about any of that right now. Regrets and guilt and all that bullshit. Yoar here, we have a fightin’ chance, and that’s all that matters to me.”  
Sniper inhaled as he was suddenly caught up in a rush emotions, that had laid unresolved since the Blu spy came walking in. 

“Mate… This mornin’ I was bloody sure that I’d never see you again, ‘cept maybe on the choppin’ block. And god, my heart ached and ached and ached until I wanted to tear the damn thing out. I really thought that that was it, the end of everything we had, and I dunno that I’ve ever experienced worse grief in my life. I know these few months haven’t been that long, but it seems like a lifetime, and you mean so, so much to me. Maybe I didn’t realize how much until then, but it was a hell of a wake up call. I… I love you, mate. And the thought of losing you…”  
Sniper paused and let that hang for a long moment, then continued quietly.  
“So none of this guilt an’ sadness bullshit. The fact that you’re sittin’ in front of me an’ we’ve got an escape planned out is more than I could ever ask for. It ain’t gonna be easy, not by a long shot, but damn if I ain’t goin’ down without a fight.”

Sniper sighed as he finished, feeling like his chest was ten times heavier with the emotional release. But the moment he saw Spy get up and move towards him, he stood and met his embrace, hugging him close and cradling his head while the spy nuzzled against his neck and ran his fingers through his hair, holding him like he’d almost lost him, and his heart started aching again— but in the good way now. 

He completely missed the few stray tears that silently soaked into his shirt, but he didn’t miss Spy’s soft whispers some minutes later as the Frenchman tapped along to his heartbeat.  
“I love you too, mon coeur. I can’t help but feel guilty, but you are right—this, now, is all that matters. And… I’m very happy that you feel the same way I do.” 

He pulled back and smiled softly, sweetly, moving to sweep his thumb over the sniper’s jaw.

“I am just sorry that things cannot be so easy for us, that we can’t have a happy, normal relationship…”

Sniper laughed at that, shrugging.  
“Look at the pair of us blokes. A dirty Bushman sniper and a fancy French spy. Was anything ever destined to go ‘normal’ for us?”

“Non, I suppose not,” Spy laughed with him, then grew softly serious.

“One thing— promise me that if they come, and you are able to escape, do not wait for me. Comprendre? Just go. I can escape myself, and I will find you later.”

Sniper’s throat tightened at the thought, but he nodded.  
“Alright mate. As long as you swear to that. I trust yah. Or, unless maybe I find you first…”

Spy laughed again, music to Sniper’s ears.  
“Oh _please,_ I’m afraid you can’t track my footprints like game, Bushman.”  
Spy kept his smile this time as he gazed fondly into the sniper’s eyes, and something was exchanged there that the Aussie couldn’t put into words.  
“I should get going now,” Spy said quietly, but not sadly. “I’m sorry for our ruined week… If the alert doesn’t come through, I guess I’ll be seeing you next on the battlegrounds.”

“So you’ll either be screamin’ at me or you’ll be puttin’ a knife in my back. Sounds like a pretty normal week, actually.”

Spy snorted and butted his chest playfully. He stayed for a moment to murmur,  
“Je t'aime tellement, mon amour.”

“Love you too, Spy.”

Then Spy raised a bit on his toes to hold the sniper’s head and pull him into a deep, tender, lasting kiss. Sniper closed his eyes and held the bloody backstabber, taking in every contour of his thin lips and how surprisingly warm they were, how his breath lightly shuddered and how his eyes fluttered when he opened his again. They shared another long look, then Spy finally stepped away towards the counter to retrieve his jacket and slip on his shoes.

“Keep safe, yah drongo,” Sniper called as he reached for the door handle.

“Keep on target, you filthy, repulsive Australian.”

Then it was just Sniper in his van, lips still tingling and cheeks tinged pink, looking around in his too-clean camper and feeling… many things. Many, many things.  
But, most importantly, very hungry. He shook the numbness out of his limbs and turned on the overhead light, looking through his small cooler for some meaty food and a nice whiskey he could make a night out of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uni is killing me but I really, really wanted to get this out during this break. I've written so much material for this fic and I'm not letting it go to waste. It'll just take me a while and a lot of tears.
> 
> So much dialogue this chapter. It killed me and sorry if it's too repetitive sometimes.
> 
> Please give me comments. I could really, really use encouragement right now.
> 
> Poor Sniper. Look at 'im. I gave him anxiety.


End file.
